


Secrets Keep You Safe

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Animals, Badass Girl, Drifter, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Heaven, Hell, Hunters, Hunting, Magic, Monsters, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Secrets make the world go round, secrets bring it crashing down. Secrets keep you safe. And my life is one big, twisted secret. These boys could change it all though. And we all know change never ends well."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I lounged in a dim corner of the crowded bar, passing a coin idly back and forth across the knuckles of my left hand. It was an almost unconscious action as I focused my attention on the people within, looking for tonight’s target. Tapping into years of experience and finely tuned gut instinct I scanned the room, searching. There, in the opposite corner of the bar, sat two men studying the humans inside the establishment as closely as I. A grim smile flickered to life on my lips as I rose, a final check to be sure. “ _Christos_ ,” I murmured quietly. Had they been truly human, there was no way the men should have been able to hear me over the hubbub. Yet no sooner had the word passed my lips, did both men flinch and whip their heads around, eyes searching for who had spoken. Eyes that were as black as pitch. I stood swiftly and strolled over to the pair just as they signalled for the barkeep. The underdressed, over enhanced twenty-something and I both reached the booth at the same time. I sidled my way in front of her and smiled widely at the men. “ _Christos_.” I repeated. A tense silence descended as we stared each other down.

“So, uh, are you guys going to order anything or can I go?” the young woman asked.

One of the demons smiled stiffly up at her. “No, no. I think we’ll walk our _friend_ here home. We seem to have some catching up to do,” he said coldly. With a huff she was gone.

I turned without another word to slip off out the back, into the darkened alleyway behind the building. The demons followed mere seconds behind, but it was enough time for me to pull a dirk as long as my forearm out of my bootleg and drape my long leather coat over a nearby dumpster. I leant against the damp brick wall, one hand on my hip and the dirk gripped loosely in my left hand. The two demons took in the sight of my slim 5’8 form coupled with the complete lack of any backup and laughed. “Fancy yourself a hunter kiddo?” the burlier of the two asked, eyes patronisingly wide.

I replied in the same belittling tone. “Yes, actually. Are you scared? Because if you feel like running back off to hell, go ahead and save me the effort of exorcising you two hellscum,” I snapped.

“Sweetheart, after we’re done with you you’re going to be begging for us to kill you,” the second demon menaced.

I gave a dry laugh. “Try your best,” I challenged. The two of them lunged simultaneously but moved bare centimetres before being brought up short by an invisible force. They tried again and again, making me tut at them. “Oh you aren’t going anywhere but back to hell,” I assured them. They stopped and began throwing a barrage of threats and insults at me. I walked towards them, standing just outside their reach. I gave an indolent flick of my weapon upwards and shrugged apologetically. “Devil’s trap. You really are as _thick_ as you seem,” I said wryly as the demons snapped their gazes heavenwards. Several stories above us on the bottom of one of the fire escape landing above the bar, I had etched the symbol. Sauntering back over to my coat, I dug a hip flask out of one of the numerous pockets. Swallowing a mouthful of water, I replaced the flask. “Goodbye boys. Have fun in hell. And tell ‘em when you get there, Donovan sent you,” I said sweetly. Without further ado I began the ritual. “ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregation et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam secure tibi facias libertate sevire, te rogamus_ ,” I paused and waved my fingers at the two demons, who were raging furiously and futilely with the bounds of the trap I had laid. I laughed. “ _Audi nos_!” Both men collapsed to their knees as great plumes of black demonic smoke poured from their mouths and disappeared. Once I was sure the process was well and truly over I approached the two men, both only semi-conscious. As I had hoped, the demons had not been in the bodies long enough to ride them to the point of death. I waited patiently just out of arms reach as the men came to, having enough experience with the recently un-possessed to know that violence was often a reflexive response. Thankfully these two seemed more shaken than anything and I offered each a hand as the picked themselves up off the ground. “Are we all good?” I inquired, “No internal injuries or intense pain anywhere? Good.”

The leaner man eyed me warily. “What just happened?” he asked, voice unsteady. The other man nodded in vehement agreement to the question. I sighed and snapped into lecture mode.

“You two were possessed by demons. Those murder suicides that have been happening around the place? Demons. You two are lucky to be alive. Now take these and these,” I said, shoving a few pages of printed information and diagrams into both men’s hands. I pointed a warning finger at both of them and put on my most serious face. “Read it, remember it and apply it. If possible, get a tattoo of this symbol,” I urged, pointing to one of the images, “It will stop you from getting possessed again. Get jewellery with this symbol on it and give it to everyone you know who will wear it. Get as many people as you know to get the same tattoo.  _Protect you loved ones_. Got it?” I paused and let the information sink in. The two men had the same shocked, vaguely horrified expression most people who got this speech wore. I sighed in pity, shoulders dropping slightly. “Look, I’m really sorry that you have to know this. I really am. My phone number and website are on the bottom of every page if you ever need more information or think there’s something bad going on again,” I offered. As if this consolation prize could make up for having the fabric of mundane reality stained and torn. “Go home, spend time with any family you have. I’m sorry,” I repeated and with strained nods and murmurs of thanks, the two turned their backs and left in silence. I sighed, re-sheathing the glistening dirk into one bootleg and picked up my coat, pulling it on. The leather flapped around my ankles as I stowed the now half empty flask back into one pocket. The sound of voices startled me and I ducked behind the large skip, pulling the coat’s hood over my head to hide the glow of pale blonde hair. My actions came not a moment too soon. The door swung open and two young men stepped out, one wielding a short blade covered in some sort of runes and the other a handgun. When the alleyway appeared deserted, the man with handgun swore. “Son of a bitch!” he snapped, letting the gun drop to his side. My attention flicked to the knife’s holder as he spoke. “Hey Dean? Come have a look at this,” he called, voice low and soft. His companion, Dean, dropped into a crouch next to him, “What it is Sam?” I raised my eyebrows, mildly impressed. _Sam and Dean, the Winchester brothers. Lucky me._ They rubbed their fingers on the ground and inspected what came away. “Sulphur,” Sam one declared. I held back a snort, _Oh goodie, they’re geniuses._ Both young men rose and swept their eyes over the alleyway again. I rolled my eyes impatiently, legs beginning to ache from remaining crouched for so long. _Get on with it,_ I thought to myself. Suddenly a thoughtful look crossed Sam’s face and he looked up. “Huh. Devil’s Trap,” he muttered. “Looks like someone beat us to it Dean.” An incredulous look crossed Dean’s face. “Another hunter? You think the girl got away okay then?” he wondered out loud. My eyes narrowed in annoyance. _You arrogant, chauvinistic, sexist ass-wipe,_ I ranted silently. His companion dropped his gaze from my Devil’s Trap and gave a flat look. “Really Dean? You don’t think that maybe the girl _was_ the hunter?” Sam hinted. The prospect of a young female hunter seemed to genuinely confuse the shorter man. “What, by herself? Nah, she was probably bait,” Dean rebuked. He shrugged at an exasperated Sam. “C’mon, let’s get back to the motel. I’ll take a night off when I can get one.”

 

As the two hunters retreated from the dimness of the alley to the more brightly lit main street I stood and began to follow. As I stalked unnoticed behind them, I made sure my face was still buried in the protective darkness of my coat’s hood. Years of practise had made me an expert in going unnoticed, yet it had also made me wary. As my quarry decided to stop to order takeaway I took the opportunity to slip out the dirk from where it was hidden against my calf, pulling an identical knife from my other boot. I smiled contentedly at their comforting weight in my hands as I leaned against brick a few yards from the entrance of the take-out store the hunters were in. Although my clothing was hardly inconspicuous, it was incredibly useful for hunting. The ankle length black leather of my overcoat kept me warm and dry, hid me from prying eyes in the dark. The oversized hood shielded my face and provided the anonymity I often required and the long loose sleeves allowed me, as they did now, to go armed without anyone being able to see. The many pockets, both secret and otherwise, gave a place to stow all manner of things I required at some point or another. Knee length, skin tight boots made out of identical leather to the coat provided a place to stow my twin daggers. They also made jumping from things, kicking and being kicked less of bitch. I grew increasingly impatient as the minutes ticked by and I still stood waiting for Macho and Einstein to reappear. Finally they did, resuming their journey to the unnamed motel. I let myself walk closer behind them this time, the denser crowd of pedestrians in the area meaning my chances of being spotted were minimal. Straining my ears, I caught a snippet of conversation. “So, do you think this is the same hunter that’s been beating us to basically every job lately?” asked a deeper voice. Genius Boy. A coughing smoker drowned out Manly Man’s reply. I sighed in irritation and forced myself to drop back lest the lure of their conversation caused me to get close enough to be noticed. Taking a chance as we passed another side alley three blocks from where I had exorcised the demons earlier tonight, I ducked down it and retrieved a well stuffed canvas pack of my possessions I had stashed there before starting my hunt this evening. Slinging it over my shoulder I hurried back onto the main street and continued to follow my persons of interest, Sam the Genius’s impressive height making it easy to keep track of them even from a distance. A few minutes’ walk later and the two turned into a motel car park. I grinned and followed brazenly, smirk widening as they still didn’t pick up my near silent tread even without a sheltering crowd. I cleared my throat loudly as they fished around for the room key, bickering over who had had it last. They whipped around and I leant casually against a thick wooden beam the supported the roof above the porch that ran long the front of the motels’ rooms. I raised and hand and waved, knowing my face would still be all but indistinguishable beneath my hood. My sleeve dropped down and revealed the dirk held lightly in my hand as I waved. Both hunters stiffened and Dean’s hand began to edge almost unconsciously to a dark green duffle that I was certain contained weaponry. I shook my head and tsked, stepping back off the porch into the more open parking lot. Tossing my pack to the side out of the way, I revealed my second dirk and dropped into a relaxed fighting stance. The two glanced at each other and took a few cautious steps towards me into the parking lot. “Drop your knives if you know what’s good for you,” warned Dean. Sam regarded my cloaked form silently. On some unspoken cue when I refused to drop my weapons, both men lunged for me. I ducked under grasping arms and kicked out a leg, sending a body tumbling into a car. Letting my momentum drop me into a low crouch, I slid a little way long the loose gravel. As Dean righted himself from his near fall I faced off with Sam, sheathing the dirks back into my bootlegs. Thinking he had the advantage while I remained so low to the ground. He stepped in close and tried to grab me, seeming unwilling to even try and land any real blows. His mistake. I leaped at him, grabbing him by the shoulders. He began to topple over backwards and I braced myself, the moment he hit the ground I whipped out one dirk and tickled the side of the hunter’s exposed neck with the delicate tip. With my free hand I reached up and pulled back my hood in one swift movement, revealing my face. As mild shock fluttered to land on Sam’s features I grinned at him. “I win pretty boy. Better luck next time,” I consoled. I got to my feet and offered a hand to a wary Sam. He took it delicately and I gave him a yank upright. I turned to Dean, who stared at me suspiciously with narrowed eyes. I shrugged in semi-sincere apology, “Haven’t had a good tussle for a while. All the jobs around lately have been piss poor on combat lately.”

“Who are you?”

I gave a dry chuckle as I thrust the dirk back into its sheath before answering. “Donovan. Anastasia Donovan,” I proffered my hand, shaking both Sam and Dean’s with a firm grip, “And you must be the Winchesters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chappie One done. Tell me what you think! :3


	2. Chapter Two

“So, you’re a hunter then?” Dean still seemed confused by the concept, “And you hunt on your own.”

“You’re really struggling to grasp that.” I stated. Sat on the corner of the bed, Sam watched the exchange with interest as Dean swallowed another mouthful of whiskey before replying. “But you’re what, 17, 18? Do you even have a gun?” he quizzed.

“Don’t use guns. I hate them.”

“How the hell do you pull it off?”

I shrugged. “I’m good,” I replied shortly.

“How long have you been hunting for?” the younger Winchester piped up.

“A long time,” I stated, refusing to elaborate. There was a heavy pause, broken after a long minute by a dry chuckle from Dean. “You don’t share much do you?”

“Safer for everyone that way,” I laughed, only half joking. There was another awkward pause before Sam thought of another question to fire at me. “Don’t people get suspicious when you check into motels by yourself?” he asked, brow furrowed in thought as he regarded me intently.

“I don’t use motels,” I said dismissively. Both hunters looked at me like I was joking but after I shot them flat looks, their faces quickly turned to disbelief. “Where do you stay?” Dean asked incredulously. I felt a little irritated as I answered, “In parks. Generally.”

“You’re kidding right?” Sam spluttered. I shook my head. After a moment of continued silence I figured the conversation was over and decided to check the condition of my weaponry. Pulling off my coat, I let it drop the floor and I began methodically removing the multiple blades stashed on my body. First the two dirks from each bootleg, then the small push dagger strapped to my right upper arm, a serrated blade from my left thigh, and one by one I pulled the thirteen throwing knives free of the bandolier slung from my right shoulder across my front to my left hip. I sat, placing each knife carefully in a line on the floor, before yanking my shirt up over my stomach and pulling out another pair of short blades strapped to either side of my ribcage and placing them in the line-up. Finally, I clicked second small push dagger from where it was hidden in the sole of the heel of my right boot. I added it to the spread of shining metal on the floor as I reached into my pack and dug around to pull out a small canvas pouch that was bulging curiously. I opened the drawstrings and removed the cleaning equipment that it contained. I picked up one dirk and began to polish, removing any trace of a mark from the two toned metal of the blade. Dean let out a low whistle as he eyed off my collection. “Nice,” the older hunter commented. I shrugged and said nothing as I continued to work. “You really don’t say much, do you?” Dean repeated.

I gave an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes and looked up at him. “And you really don’t shut up, do you?” I shot back. Off to the side Sam gave a snort of laughter and I glanced at him, letting my mouth quirk up at the corner as our eyes met. I went back to work and out of pity for the talkative Dean forced myself to make small talk. “So where are the two of you headed next?” I prompted.

Sam spoke up first this time as his brother continued to examine my armaments while hitting back another gulp of whiskey. “We’ll have to wait and see what job pops up next,” Sam replied, an unspoken question in his voice.

“Well we’re one and the same then. I’ll go wherever the wind takes me in the morning,” I said quietly. Out of my periphery I saw Dean’s attention caught by something propped up near the door. He set down the empty whiskey glass and took a step towards it. I didn’t look up from my polishing as I let a simple warning drop, “Touch that and I’ll kill you.”

Dean gave a single short bark of laughter and continued towards it, one hand reaching out for it. Like lightning I snatched up two of my throwing knives and hurled them at the arrogant man. He swore in shock as both blades grazed him, one drawing blood on the underside of his forearm and the other cutting more deeply into his pinkie before continuing on to stick into the wall a few inches from the other blade. Sam was on his feet moments after I was and with one long stride he was behind me, one strong hand holding my own behind my back just as his other arm encircled my shoulders and kept me pinned firmly against him as I snarled at Dean. “I said don’t touch, you little fuckwit. Last warning,” I growled.  A spark of anger flared in his eyes, fading just as quickly and being replaced by a simmering caution as he stepped back from it, hands raised. Over his shoulder, wisps of smoke curling up from the corner of the window drapes caught my attention. A moment later a lick of fire appeared on the material. _Shit,_ I thought to myself.  I let my eyes slide closed and forced myself to calm down, slowing breathing that I hadn’t realised had quickened and relaxing my body so I no longer strained against Sam’s hold on me. When I opened my eyes again, the flame was gone and the smoke had dissipated, leaving behind only a faint haze and slightly charred cloth. I puffed out a breath of relief. Taking this as a sign of submission, the tall hunter released me but stayed cautiously close behind. Fighting valiantly to keep my voice even and free from any sign of anger, I apologised to Dean as he regarded me with wary eyes. “I’m sorry. That’s a sensitive spot. No one touches that except me. _No one_ ,” I paused to collect myself once more, “It once belonged to someone very dear to me and he’s dead now. Don’t take it personally.”

A second or two later, the victim of my flare in temper forced out a laugh as he inspected his two mementos of my anger. “Well at least your aim isn’t all that good,” he joked, wiping a drip of blood in his pants. I chuckled as I walked past him to run my fingers over the finely crafted black bow that had been the cause of the conflict, obsessively checking its surface for any mark before slipping it back into its protective sock. “Oh my aim is perfect,” I scoffed, “If I’d wanted to stick you, you’d be stuck.”

The mood was lightening considerably as Dean issued his challenge. “Prove it.”

“Fine.”

 

I stood in the centre of the motel room, throwing knives tucked back into the bandolier I had donned once more. Both Winchester brothers eyed me disbelievingly. “Anywhere in the room?” Sam repeated doubtfully.

I nodded. “Thirteen spots and I’ll hit every one of them dead on,” I guaranteed. I took a breath, snapping into action as both brothers simultaneously snapped out a series of locations and I in response sent every one of the thirteen hissing through the air to stick with a solid _thuck_ into their targets. I had not missed as single spot, not even by a hair. I gave both of my new acquaintances a look that oozed _“I told you so”_.  I sighed and looked around the room.  Now to get them all back. We spread out, each taking a side of the room and pulling out the knives that had stuck here and there. Two dozen I received back and the three of us stood staring at the thirteenth, wedged into the wall in the small gap between the ceiling and the top of the room’s cupboard. I turned to the taller of the two brothers, craning my neck back slightly to look him in the eye. “Think you can reach that?” I asked. Sam shrugged and stepped up close to the closet, reaching up, fingers grasping through the air. Tall as he was, Sam’s hand stopped short of the handle. I sighed. “Give me a boost and I’ll get it,” I said firmly. Making a sound of agreement, the younger Winchester locked his hands together, forming a step for me to stand on. Placing one foot in the cup of his hands, I gently rested one hand on his shoulder for balance. “Count of three?” he suggested. He began to count as I nodded in agreement, “3, 2, 1.” He pushed me up, more forcefully than was necessary for my small frame and sent me surging up into the air to bump somewhat forcefully against the ceiling. I gripped Sam’s shoulder momentarily tighter as I readjusted my balance before swiftly leaning in to the small space over the cupboard to pull out the elusive thrower. Sam lowered me back to the ground and both he and his brother backed away laughing as I touched down in a shower of dust, sneezing violently. Sheathing the knife into its place in the bandolier, I dusted myself off. “You might want to hold still there,” Dean warned suddenly.

I stilled my movements as I looked at him quizzically. “What is it?” I asked cautiously. He pointed wordlessly down at my side. I looked down and creeping slowly around from my back was a large wolf spider, spindly beige legs gently feeling their way onto my stomach. “Oh.” I reached a hand down and carefully shooed the spider onto it, raising the small creature to eye level. It continued to explore my hand as I inspected it. “Well aren’t you just a beautiful little lady, hmm?” I cooed at the arachnid. The two hunters gave me confused look. I raised an eyebrow at them, “What?”

“It’s a spider.”

I gave Dean a faux impressed look. “You don’t say?!” I said sarcastically. Sam’s mouth twisted into a small smile as his brother gave me a flat look. I took the step towards the two, holding out the hand which cradled the spider. “You want to hold her?” Both men took a step back, shaking their heads and hurriedly muttering out refusals. I pursed my lips and smirked. “Trick question. The answer is yes,” I told them, “She’s perfectly harmless.”

“ _She?”_  Dean repeated.

I nodded. “The females are usually bigger than the males and she’s pretty big for a wolfie,” I said, watching the spider as she gently ambled her way onto my forearm. Looking up at the two uncertain men I asked the question I knew both did not wish to hear, “Who wants to go first?”

The brothers glanced at each other before their gazes flicked back to me, or rather to the spider I held. “You can,” they said simultaneously.

I rolled my eyes amusedly. “Pick a number between one and ten,” I suggested, mentally locking on to three as my own choice. After a moments deliberation I could see both had made their selection. “Well go on,” I encouraged, “Tell me!”

“Seven.”

“Four.”

I grinned at the two. “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!” I joked, “Sam Winchester, come on up.” Sam groaned, only partly serious, as his brother laughed at his apparent misfortune. I winked at the older brother, “Don’t worry, your next.”

 

Sam sat on the edge of one bed, staring dubiously at the arachnid which still crawled contentedly on my forearm. Giving a final sigh of defeat, Sam held his hand, palm up. Grinning in satisfaction, I scooped the spider off my arm and placed her on his hand. Both man and creature held perfectly still, but the spider found its feet first and began to slowly traipse across Sam’s large hand. “See, not so bad is it?” I murmured.  The younger Winchester nodded as he watched the spider with interest, some uneasiness still present. Satisfied I had forced my point with the first brother, I caught Sam’s eye and nodded at Dean. “Okay, now pick her up and give her to Dean,” I said.

Dean shook his head quickly, “No, its fine really. You don’t need to go to the effort just for me.”

Sam stood slowly, laughing at his brother. “Oh no, you’re not skipping out on this one,” he chuckled as he held the spider out toward Dean.  He backed his brother into a corner and a grabbed his wrist, gently tipping the spider onto Dean’s hand. I raised an eyebrow in amusement as Dean froze and shut his eyes tightly, refusing to look at the creature. “Breath Dean,” I reminded him with a grin.

The spider began to slowly explore his hand and the hunter’s eyes snapped open as he felt the movement. “Son of a bitch!” he swore.

I snorted. “Hardly.” I stood and relieved Dean of his terrible burden, and returning her to behind the wardrobe. I returned to the pile of my belongings, snatching up the polishing cloth to give the throwing knives a quick once over before I re-sheathed them. Carefully I hid the others on my person once more before pulling my coat on. I repacked the rest of my things and caught the interest of the two hunters. “What are you doing?” Sam asked. I slid the last of the cleaning equipment into its pouch and stuffed it back into my pack. “I wouldn’t want to impose my presence on you any longer,” I laughed dryly, “Nice meeting you. “ I heaved the pack’s straps onto my shoulder and turned to go.

“Wait!”

I stopped where I stood. “Yes?”

“You aren’t serious about sleeping rough are you?”

“It’s actually quite a smooth experience,” I replied, deadpan. I turned to look at Sam. “I’m not a baby and I’ve been doing this for years. I assure you, I will be fine.”

Sam frowned at me and both Dean and I regarded him curiously. “Look, why don’t you stay here the night. It’s the least we can do after all the trouble you seemed to have saved us,” he suggested. Dean’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as he and I looked at his brother. I gave Sam a wry smile as he gazed at me with wide earnest eyes. “If you insist,” I said, accepting more for his sake than my own.

“Can we eat now?”

I chuckled at the older Winchester as I slung my bag to the floor. “Don’t let me hold you back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to you for reading! Please let me know if it's terrible. Be harsh! :3


End file.
